Seven Wishes
by pseudonym08
Summary: #3: "You said you don't love her! Then how come you still can't afford to let her go!" What had become of this music? What had become of us? If only they were true to themselves, everything would have been alright. RxR
1. Remnants of the Past

I'd like to extend my thanks to **_Twelve Winterflowers_** for patiently looking into this piece. She really did a very good job. So I've decided to dedicate this to her as well, as a sign of my thank you. :)

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**SEVEN WISHES**

"_Hearts breaking, everything changing_

_Seven wishes, all for a dream."_

Chapter One | **REMNANTS OF THE PAST **

If only she'd left a long time ago.

If only she'd expressed her feelings more.

If only he wasn't that much of a bastard.

If only he was honest with her, with himself.

_If only…_

Then, everything would've been alright.

But, all of those are just "if only_s_". Nothing but doubts and uncertainties. Never exact. Never certain. Never clear.

Like a fragment of a shattered mirror which reflected a piece of you. But never the whole you. You tried to piece it back. Still, it would never be complete. Never exactly as it once was. Even with all those wounds you receive from trying to keep it whole, it remained broken. Just that. Broken.

A lost picture.

Yes. That is probably the right term to describe them. What they came to be. And even if Mikan did everything she could to mend it, it seems as if it is too late. She tried. Really! Even just a little portion of their past –who they both once were. She made her way into completing it like a jigsaw puzzle. But like that smashed mirror covered with moist, the image not just became incomplete. It was also _unclear_. The past. The present. And its possible future.

But come what may, she knew what she'll eventually choose. And that is to stay. She resolved to cling into every possibility than leave him alone. It was never a hard decision for her. She knew what would make her heart happy.

Being with him.

People had always told her to leave him, before he left her first. _He doesn't need you_, they would say. But she always found reasons to contradict them. Reasons which she thought would be enough to reignite the old flame.

He was actually given chances to leave her a lot of times. She would answer. Chances like a call from the family. Or he could just simply kick her out of the house. A lot of choices were laid right in front of him. He only had to choose _if_ he wanted to. But _he didn't_. For what reason? She doesn't know. But that small mysterious act gave her hope of their possible reunion. Though it would be more of a faint wish, _a dream_, than of a hope.

But she held on.

A promise. A chance. That was what kept her clinging to him all those months.

Even though the truth was already right in front of her, she chose to ignore it and be blinded by her wishful thinking. Wishing the past would reincarnate itself; that those happy memories would soon take over this helpless situation. But it never did. It _never_ will. It was nothing more than a remnant, a small relic of what they had and of the moments they shared. But it could never be a present. Never a gift.

Weeks had passed since everything changed. Or, more like, almost three weeks since everything returned back to what it normally should be.

This happened on the eve of October, a few days after their anniversary. It was when Natsume realized what a boring person she really is. No fun. No game. And he needed to find a new addiction before her dullness infected him. The first idea that got into him was drinking. He drank almost every night, in a bar along with his friends. When he returned back home during the early mornings, he made a mess of the house. Breaking vases and or disarranging things Mikan had just tidied up the day before. He indulged himself in smoking some time after, creating a bigger mess. But Mikan endured, despite the hell that broke loose between them every night.

On the days that followed, she decided to sleep on the balcony outside. She sat on the old rocking chair, covered herself with a small blanket, and waited for his arrival. And when he arrived, she waited until he sobered. That way, she avoided some fights with him. When things died down, she always apologized to the neighbors he woke from the noise he made. She smiled at them, a small one, before getting inside and seeing him sprawled on the floor. She'd feel an imaginary squeeze in her heart and she'd carefully lift him up to the bed. Then, clean the mess he just made.

People were already wondering about the bickering they hear during some nights or about the bruises that would appear on Mikan's fair skin. But since Mikan would always try to ignore the topic, the rest decided to push the little questioning to the back of their minds.

But Evil was never contented with only this _little _destruction he made.

Everything worsened when Natsume noticed the power his looks had over the females he met in the bar. The way they flirted with him, the way they bared themselves and played with their tongues aroused every bit of him. An intense desire. The feeling was something ragged and wild. Something he could never have with Mikan. Plus the influence of alcohol and the stress from work, it was all that he needed to lose himself and take the kitten back home to his bed, not caring whether a certain brunette was waiting for him too –outside, where she endured the cold and the mosquitoes. Not once had she crossed his mind.

Or maybe he just wasn't too honest about himself.

Too many times would their neighbors see him with a girl in his arms. Those girls who may have come from the bar he just recently left. Every night was a different one from the previous. But those neighbors never said a word, pitying the poor Mikan whom they knew would always choose to stay beside him. And though they preferred it that way and kept their mouths shut, Mikan still knew. She perfectly knew what he does whether she is there or away or whether tonight would be blond night or not. But despite all this, she doesn't seem to mind. Sometimes, people wondered if she was either masochistic or stupid.

As she sat outside at night, she'd just close her eyes every time she hears noises from the room break through the silence. Gasps. Moans. Occasionally, a tear would unknowingly seep out of her eyes. But during those times, she'd just rock herself to sleep, pushing that little noise aside. They were _having_ _sex, _not _making love._ _It's different. Those two are different things, _she'd convince herself. Natsume made love with her. Those girls are just his sex partners. She would tell herself this until her profound conviction drowned her to sleep.

_**-7WISHES-**_

"Mikan," a voice called out to her. There was no answer.

He called again, shaking her more fiercely this time.

"Mikan," he said. Until his words finally sink in.

She quickly got up, not intending to meet those mesmerizing red eyes –those same eyes that always draw her in like a magnet. How close they were, she wasn't too sure. But it sure is the first she'd see him this close ever since then. His warmth. His breath. A tear drop. Her arm extended right to him, wanting to touch that face. And he just stood there, intently looking at her. He never had the intention of stopping her or walking away. And it confused him as to why.

"Natsume," someone called from behind. And that momentary contact broke to oblivion. Mikan draw back her hands. He walked away.

"Let's go," he said to the girl. His arms slowly wrapped her waist, protecting her. _Like how he once did to Mikan. _He guided and led her to his blue convertible and made sure she was comfortably seated before making an arch in front of his car.

"Don't wait for me for dinner," he told Mikan before getting inside.

Not too soon, he started the engine and drove away. Mikan just watched them leave. A forced smile was on her face.

_Don't wait for me for dinner_. Those words replayed in her head like a broken tape. How many times had he said that? She lost count. But even if it was the millionth, she'd still wait. She'd still worry; worry if he had eaten or worry if he was tired. As he partied all night and went back home late and drunk, she would cook dinner enough for two. Just to make sure. She never cared even if the food she prepared would be wasted. All she cared was that he had something to eat_ in case_ he wanted. After all, it was him who said her cooking was the best in the world. Although now, she isn't too sure if he really meant it _or not_.

_All the things I did were for you. I wish to see your heart's contentment, Natsume_, she whispered to no one but herself while wiping the tear away. Maybe it was also that same reason, that same wish why she tolerated and endured such acts. And when the car disappeared on a turn, she went back inside the house to do her chores.

But whatever she does, it's too obvious it will never be her who'd give him that contentment. Back in the past, she was. But they are now in the present and things change through time. That fact alone is true. Yes. It may be painful. But it's also certain. She may give the best she got, but it will never be enough.

Or perhaps… _if only _they were true to themselves.

Chapter One ends | **TO BE CONTINUED**

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Thank you for reading. Please review!


	2. Broken Strings

Thank you very much to those people who supported this fiction. Regarding alcyone15's comment, yes, I will continue this fiction. I just hoped that all of you will be willing enough to wait for the updates though. Anyway, a million thanks again to _**Twelve Winterflowers **_for basically everything!

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**SEVEN WISHES**

"_My tears, my voice, this broken beat_

_In hopes for a song that's incomplete."_

Chapter Two | **BROKEN STRINGS**

Let me hold you for the last time

It's the last chance to feel again…

They say that relationships can be likened to a song, where the piece itself is the hidden tale of the songwriter; of the person that made it from the experiences he had. Each story, each song is entirely unique and different from the other—from the techniques used to the tune that coated it, whether it is of happiness, of anger or of pure bitterness and regret.

It could sometimes start with a verse, an intro of a love that was either meant to last forever or not. Or it could be like some which would directly jump to the chorus, to the repeating melody of happiness or sadness. The chorus—the one that held the important details. The theme. The over-all message the composition wanted to convey.

Then, there would be the bridge. Something that would connect the beginning to its possible ending. An ending that is repeatedly sung until it completely fades, or one that would end immediately after one last note.

When finished, it would result to a track that some would come to relate and love and replay all over again.

Or it _could_ become a noise that everybody wished to ignore, but simply _can't_.

When I love you, it's so untrue

I can't even convince myself

For Natsume, girls were just there to entertain men —men like him, who have to face the troubles of earning a living. That was what he thought, what he believed in _until she came _and showed him a new perspective of the world. Someone like her—a nerd, an innocent, _a virgin _—had taught him things he never knew, things he would _never _know, until a nobody like her showed up.

How they came to be was far from what everyone had expected.

It was like a song that had a broken beat; a random tune that soon blended into a _once _beautiful harmony.

_**-7WISHES-**_

It was back in those high school days, when he and his gang were the kings of their school. They were the law. They were feared by guys and chased down by girls. And it was one of those usual mornings, during lunch, when they'd do nothing but stroll around the campus, looking for decent prey. Then, all of a sudden, BAM!

Natsume had collided with a girl so hideous he hadn't learned of her existence until now.

"Oh, I'm sorry," the girl apologized, bending down to retrieve the books that fell from her grasp.

Natsume looked up, hoping to see her face, but his vision of her was blocked by the towering books between them. He laughed instead, while his friends snickered around him. Then, he stood up. He didn't even know her, only that she was a brunette. But his hands had crawled boldly to her waist. His sudden touch made her flinch, but he paid no heed to it. He didn't even bother helping her, blinded by the sole focus of winning her out.

"If you were that desperate, all you have to do is ask. Anyway, my friends and I are going out tonight. Want to come, _Polkadots_? I could give you anything you want, you know," he said seductively as he leaned into her.

He thought that she was like the other girls, that she would drop the books and throw herself at him. But he thought wrong.

In a matter of seconds, the world had witnessed a feat only she had the power to pull off.

Natsume's left cheek was slapped… _by the Biology book _she had just picked up from the ground.

"Pervert!" She hissed at him before she stormed out.

Natsume was left speechless. His cheek was starting to sting, but he still did not move from where he stood.

"God… that was _priceless_. She got you back there, didn't she, Natsume?" he heard one of his friends mock as the others continued to laugh hard. Natsume ignored them. His gaze focused on the back features of the girl who just left him like an idiot. _You'll soon get your chance, Polkadots_, he said to himself.

But the event that soon transpired was the very thing he _did not plan_.

He fell for her. Unexpectedly. Coincidentally. _Accidentally_.

He did.

It tears me up

I tried to hold on but it hurts so much

"Natsume," a girl's voice called, pulling him out of his reverie. "…anything wrong?"

He gave her no answer. Natsume realized he had spaced out long enough. He turned to her and gave her a smile. An unsure one. Insincere. And then he led her to a place he reserved for just the two of them.

It was that place, that same room of the same bar for all the girls whom he dated and had _sex _with –the dumping spot. The noise. The alcohol. It had become a good sanctuary for him and his confused self somehow. A good place to drink and drown himself to nothingness after he broke another person's heart, which was never his intention. But he had _no_ choice.

Natsume called for a waitress after he had settled himself. He ordered three bottles of beer.

"Hey, Natsume!" he heard a familiar voice call. Natsume turned around to see a blond lad with deep blue eyes, his best friend, coming towards him.

"Ruka," he acknowledged. "It's been a long time. What are you doing here?"

"Uh… Nothing, actually. I just met with a few friends a while back," Ruka replied.

"I see… So, how's Italy?"

"Fine, I guess," Ruka answered with a smile as he carefully studied his friend… before his gaze travelled to the company he hadn't notice until now.

"Who's this girl?" Natsume ignored the question. Instead, he diverted the topic and invited Ruka to come sit for a while as they talked about things they had longed to talk about. For the blond lad, it was more on curiosity as to what happened to his friend's life.

"I actually didn't expect to still see you here in Japan, Natsume," he began, earning a chuckle from his friend, who had just finished a bottle. "I thought you're already somewhere in America. You know. With Mikan," he continued before he grabbed a beer and emptied it halfway. He eyed the girl who constantly gave him dirty looks. But Ruka just smiled, before he completely ignored it. Then, he drank and faced his friend… only to see him quite distracted.

"Hey, Natsume?" he asked again as he waved his hand in front. But Natsume wasn't listening anymore. Ruka sighed. "Is this about Mikan? Did she finally dump you?" He then chuckled at the possible irony. "Well, I wouldn't be surprised about it."

"We are still together, Ruka," Natsume vaguely murmured. Ruka scoffed as he took another sip. He turned towards the girl who looked undoubtedly confused.

"Yeah right, like I'd believe you."

As Ruka put the bottle down, he was shocked to see Natsume completely spaced-out. "Hey? Natsume? Bro!"

But Ruka's calls had already died down to distant echoes for Natsume—nothing but soft whispers slowly carried away by a raging wind; something that his mind had intentionally blocked. His thoughts centered into thinking and remembering the familiarity of a name he had heard countless of times _a long time ago_.

_Mikan_.

Who was she again? Ah yes… It was her –the girl that once captivated and _changed _him. Unknowingly. It was her –the girl whom he considered his sole and soul mate. Whom he had shared his joys and sorrows with. Someone whom he had loved.

_Had._

And upon hearing her name mentioned right now, Natsume was no longer quite sure what emotion he should show. Must he be happy? Now why would he be again? Because it was the girl's name that he should be thankful for. Guilty? For what? For being with another girl in a bar. Or simply emotionless? For he had already forgotten what the name Mikan had once meant to him.

_Or had he really?_

You can't play on broken strings

You can't feel anything that your heart don't want to feel

"NATSUME HYUUGA!" Ruka slammed a bottle on the table. It surprised both the inattentive lad and the nearby crowd. Natsume turned absent-mindedly to him. "Finally! I've been calling you for the hundredth time already! What the hell happened to you?"

Natsume did not answer.

"Natsume? Baby?" _Baby? _Remarkably, that one word had caught his attention. Baby. He turned beside him to see the woman who just called him that. His red eyes instantly met forest green ones. And a face with a faked expression. Wait!_ Who was this girl?_ And who gave her the right to call him baby?

His mind was so confused that he didn't even know what he was doing. Ruka wasn't helping at all. Then, he just said it. "We're through." Without any sort of emotion. He just broke her heart. Without saying as much as a 'sorry' or even a 'thank you for putting up with me through the night'. It was simply done in a manner that clearly said he_ doesn't _care. After that, he just stood up and left. The girl remained rooted to her seat, speechless. The girl whose name he didn't even bother _to remember_.

The truth hurts and lies worse

How can I give anymore?

"Hey, Natsume!" Ruka called.

"Stop following me, Ruka."

"No. Hey, bro! Is this about Mikan?" Natsume stopped dead on his tracks.

"No," he replied. "It has nothing to do with her."

"You know you can't run away from your feelings forever, Natsume." Natsume remain silenced.

"If it has nothing to do with her, then why are you so affected when I mentioned her name? You love her, Natsume. Why do you keep on denying—?"

"Would you just stop it, Ruka?"

"Yeah? And why? You'd tell me another of your I-don't-love-her speech? You know what Natsume? I'm sick of your stubbornness. If you really don't love her, you would've dumped her a long time ago like the other girls. But you didn't. Why?" Natsume didn't reply.

"If you keep on denying her, Natsume, then you're might as well denying to yourself."

Ruka sighed. There was no point in explaining everything to a grown man. And as he looked at his best friend, he knew that an overnight talk would still be an insufficient approach to change his opinions. And changing him completely would be another difficult thing. Difficult, but not impossible—Mikan had already done that. _Before_.

"Anyway, before I forget. Here." Ruka hesitantly neared his friend before he gave him a letter, which Natsume instantly hid inside his pocket.

"I'll read it later," Natsume said before he walked further away. Ruka only watched him retreat. _Natsume_. He muttered before he finally left the bar, still unsure if it was the right thing to do.

The moment he saw Ruka leave, Natsume snickered. _Who does he think he is? Dr. Phil?_ He spat as he heavily breathed out, desperately trying to release the war that raged within him. "You alright, sir?" He heard the bartender ask. He turned towards his direction with an emotionless façade. He closed his eyes and slowly opened them again, his mind in the process of clearing the clutters that began to fog his reasonable thinking.

Then, he moved towards the counter. He picked up a stool and sat on it.

"Give me spirits, would you?" Natsume demanded.

"Sir, are you sure—"

"Just mind your own business!" And the poor bartender was left with no choice but to retrieve the drinks. He took a bottle from the shelves and he was_ about_ to get a glass.

"Give me the bottle," Natsume insisted. Without a choice, the man obliged.

Once the bottle was within his grasp, Natsume swiftly took it and drank everything down. He did not even care whether he'll sooner or later collapse on the floor for being drunk. He did not. _Or tried not to_.

_Ruka_…

_That stupid bastard! _Natsume cussed. _If you keep on denying her, then you're might as well denying to yourself. _He tch-_ed_. He turned towards the bartender and told him to get another. _He doesn't know anything_. Natsume tried to convince himself, playing with the empty bottle in hand. _He doesn't…_ His mind repeated, pushing the thought of a very possible _does._ After all, what are the odds that he was wrong?

Then, he remembered… the way she'd look at him. Her expression. Hoping. Yearning. Simply waiting. The way her slender arms would hesitantly extend to touch his face to feel the warmth that he had shared with her before. Even those simplest gestures would leave him petrified. Like he had forgotten what to do and how to react. Especially after those tears would fall like melancholic raindrops.

Those tears she'd shed for him. He couldn't deny it, those quizzical feelings that suddenly rushed over him like a stream. It made him feel shame. It made him feel regretful. And then, it made him feel… _nothing_. In a snap, everything vanished. Even after all the struggles of trying to remember that feeling over and over again, in the end, there was only nothing. Like the last beat of a dying man's heart. Like music that stopped automatically after one last strum of the guitar.

The song…_ ended._

Oh we're running to the fire when there's nothing left to save

It's like chasing the very last train when we both know it's too late

Too late

Chapter Two ends | **TO BE CONTINUED**

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To those who are curious...

The statement written in the cover: _I only wished to be with you... forever._**  
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Thank you for reading! Please review.


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